back.
We came into the square. I glanced about quickly, as I always did, at the railings of the gardens and the lamp post, even at this time half-expecting to see the man standing there.
“The old house!” cried Belinda. “I remember it so well. And there’s the house at Manorleigh … Manor Grange. Do you go there often?”
“Yes, now and then.”
“I loved it. All that antiquity and the ghost … the ghosts. You remember the ghosts, Lucie.”
Indeed I remembered. So did Celeste, I saw from her expression. She was remembering Belinda’s playing the ghost of my mother, which had given her such a fright.
I wondered that Belinda, who could not have forgotten the incident, should have had the insensitivity to mention it. I thought then, she hasn’t changed at all.
We alighted from the carriage.
Belinda looked at me and suddenly said, “This must be where it happened.”
I nodded.
“It must have been terrible for you.”
“Please,” I whispered, “not now …”
“No, of course not. This is a homecoming … the return of the prodigal. But I am not that, am I? My departure was all quite natural and seemed so right at the time.”
“Come along in,” I said. “The servants are all agog to see you.”
She smiled, well pleased, and, with Celeste, we went into the house.
Celeste had decided that she should have a room close to mine. Hers also had a balcony which looked down on the street.
“Oh, it’s lovely,” she cried. “I shall be able to look down and see what is going on. And I shall love knowing that you are close, Lucie.”
There were just the three of us for dinner that night. Belinda talked more than Celeste and I did. She told us about the goldfields and what a strange life it was. She spoke sadly of Leah. I do believe she had really loved her mother; and she was affectionate about Tom Marner.
“He was wonderful to us both,” she told us. “And at first it was very exciting. Then I began to get homesick. We weren’t so far from Melbourne. Tom used to take us there and we would stay for a few days. That was the highlight. We entertained now and then in the house we had there. It was quiet by goldfield standards. What about Rebecca? She’d remember it, of course.”
“She will be coming up to London sometime.”
“How is she? She has children, hasn’t she?”
“Two … Alvina and Jake. They are darlings.”
I fancied she felt a little uneasy about Rebecca, as well she might. I supposed Rebecca had forgiven her. I wondered if Pedrek would ever be able to forget. There would almost certainly be a little embarrassment between them when they met.
“Does … my father ever come here?” she asked suddenly.
Celeste looked a little flustered.
Belinda noticed this and went on, “Well, he is my father, isn’t he? He doesn’t deny it, does he? My mother told me all about it—how young and innocent she was, and how it never occurred to her that he would not marry her. Do you think he will want to see me?”
“I … I don’t know,” said Celeste.
“ I want to see him.”
“Perhaps … one day …” murmured Celeste.
“It was all so dramatic, and it all happened so quickly. One day I was the daughter of the house and the next Leah was my mother and Monsieur Bourdon my father. Then I was whisked away. I often thought how strange it all was and wondered how he and I would get on if ever we met.”
“We shall have to see how things turn out,” said Celeste vaguely.
It was an uncomfortable meal. Belinda had always been outspoken and had never shown any respect for conventional modes of behavior.
I was glad when it was over and I was sure Celeste was, too. She suggested we retire as we must all be tired after the excitement of the day.
I had not been in my room long before there was a tap on the door. I knew at once that it was Belinda.
“A bit stilted, wasn’t it?” she said. “Dear old Celeste! I don’t think she wants me here.”
“She does. You are her niece.
We came into the square. I glanced about quickly, as I always did, at the railings of the gardens and the lamp post, even at this time half-expecting to see the man standing there.
“The old house!” cried Belinda. “I remember it so well. And there’s the house at Manorleigh … Manor Grange. Do you go there often?”
“Yes, now and then.”
“I loved it. All that antiquity and the ghost … the ghosts. You remember the ghosts, Lucie.”
Indeed I remembered. So did Celeste, I saw from her expression. She was remembering Belinda’s playing the ghost of my mother, which had given her such a fright.
I wondered that Belinda, who could not have forgotten the incident, should have had the insensitivity to mention it. I thought then, she hasn’t changed at all.
We alighted from the carriage.
Belinda looked at me and suddenly said, “This must be where it happened.”
I nodded.
“It must have been terrible for you.”
“Please,” I whispered, “not now …”
“No, of course not. This is a homecoming … the return of the prodigal. But I am not that, am I? My departure was all quite natural and seemed so right at the time.”
“Come along in,” I said. “The servants are all agog to see you.”
She smiled, well pleased, and, with Celeste, we went into the house.
Celeste had decided that she should have a room close to mine. Hers also had a balcony which looked down on the street.
“Oh, it’s lovely,” she cried. “I shall be able to look down and see what is going on. And I shall love knowing that you are close, Lucie.”
There were just the three of us for dinner that night. Belinda talked more than Celeste and I did. She told us about the goldfields and what a strange life it was. She spoke sadly of Leah. I do believe she had really loved her mother; and she was affectionate about Tom Marner.
“He was wonderful to us both,” she told us. “And at first it was very exciting. Then I began to get homesick. We weren’t so far from Melbourne. Tom used to take us there and we would stay for a few days. That was the highlight. We entertained now and then in the house we had there. It was quiet by goldfield standards. What about Rebecca? She’d remember it, of course.”
“She will be coming up to London sometime.”
“How is she? She has children, hasn’t she?”
“Two … Alvina and Jake. They are darlings.”
I fancied she felt a little uneasy about Rebecca, as well she might. I supposed Rebecca had forgiven her. I wondered if Pedrek would ever be able to forget. There would almost certainly be a little embarrassment between them when they met.
“Does … my father ever come here?” she asked suddenly.
Celeste looked a little flustered.
Belinda noticed this and went on, “Well, he is my father, isn’t he? He doesn’t deny it, does he? My mother told me all about it—how young and innocent she was, and how it never occurred to her that he would not marry her. Do you think he will want to see me?”
“I … I don’t know,” said Celeste.
“ I want to see him.”
“Perhaps … one day …” murmured Celeste.
“It was all so dramatic, and it all happened so quickly. One day I was the daughter of the house and the next Leah was my mother and Monsieur Bourdon my father. Then I was whisked away. I often thought how strange it all was and wondered how he and I would get on if ever we met.”
“We shall have to see how things turn out,” said Celeste vaguely.
It was an uncomfortable meal. Belinda had always been outspoken and had never shown any respect for conventional modes of behavior.
I was glad when it was over and I was sure Celeste was, too. She suggested we retire as we must all be tired after the excitement of the day.
I had not been in my room long before there was a tap on the door. I knew at once that it was Belinda.
“A bit stilted, wasn’t it?” she said. “Dear old Celeste! I don’t think she wants me here.”
“She does. You are her niece.
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